


Don't Hold Back

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Bottom Sam, Coming In Pants, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Sex, Dirty Talk, Fighting As Foreplay, M/M, Rough Sex, Teasing, Top Dean Winchester, if you are a big Cass fan you wanna skip this one, not a nice fic to Cass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25526437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: Dean has reverted to a demon. Sam has fallen off the grid while looking for him. Cass' grace is depleted and he can't find them. HE calls in the witch twins Max and Alicia to help him locate Sam. What they find isn't what they expected.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 232





	Don't Hold Back

**Author's Note:**

> I've been caling this the 'canon can fuck off a cliff' fic. Dean is a demon again for *handwavey* reasons and Alicia never got turned into a wicker person. This isn't what I intended to write but it's what I did write. I was literally finishing this as I drafted my masterpost so any mistakes are clearly my own (and I'm sure there are lots).  
> Eternal love and devotion to Em for the read through and the title.

“I appreciate your help in finding them,” Cass started as he physically shouldered the door open. “With Dean having reverted to his Demon self somehow and Sam’s desire to find and help him, I became worried when Sam didn’t contact me and warded himself against me. You are the only witches they both trust.” Cass finally finished as the door swung open and they got their first glimpse inside the small rent-by-week apartment.

“I apologize for having to do things in this manner, but with my failing grace I don’t have the abilities that I should. It’s been… problematic.” Cass added.

Max and Alicia shared a look behind the angel’s back, wondering why he felt the need to narrate everything as well as explain multiple times. It made him seem less human, not more, and it was annoying. They followed him in together but stopped short just two steps inside the door.

“Wow, something bad happened here.”

There were sigils painted all over the walls, some that Max knew but far too many he didn’t. Also, every piece of furniture within view was flipped over, the tv smashed, the door to the fridge hanging open and clearly broken. Before they could stop him, Cass started off down the dark hallway at the back of the apartment. 

“Look around, help me fix some stuff and take pictures of the sigils so we can look them up later.” Max said to his sister as he moved to turn the couch back over.

“What are we doing here? I know they helped us that one time with mama but turned  _ back _ into a demon? All these wards? And that’s a smear of blood there. These Winchesters and their business are over our heads, Max.” Alicia pushed the refrigerator door closed and it held, so she started carefully sweeping up the glass and ceramic shards on the floor of the kitchenette.

“Found where the… whatever it is that did all this damage got in.” Max said, pointing to a broken window frame. “Had to be just brute strength since this place is warded up tighter than anything else I’ve ever seen. Honestly, Sam must have let us scry him intentionally.” He turned over the armchair by the broken window and saw a Winchester Flannel overshirt on the floor.

“Uh, I don’t think it was intentional.” Alicia replied, pointing at a ‘HIDE ME’ sigil that had been painted on the kitchen cabinet but there was a blood-smeared handprint breaking the lines.

“Huh, well damn. What is taking that angel so long? It’s not like there’s a whole lot of room back there?” Max asked and they both turned towards the still-dark hallway.

****************************************************************

Cass crept down the hallway as quietly as he could. He saw that there were clothes littered on the floor but with the lights off and his weakened vision he couldn’t tell if they were torn or bloodstained. The bathroom door was ajar, showing a faint light and part of the sink and he crept towards it. He put his head into the open doorway when he felt the tap of an angel blade at his bare neck.

“If you wake him, I will kill you.”

“Wake who? Sam is that you? Sam why are you-” the angel blade previously at his neck moved up to his ear to nick his earlobe and he lost his voice in the pain. He felt himself being spun around, so that he was no longer facing the bathroom, but pressed up against the hallway wall with Sam looming over him.

“If you wake him, I will kill you. Go, that way.” Sam gestured down and out the hallway and moved just enough to let Cass go past. Wondering what was going on but unwilling to raise Sam's ire again, Cass headed back up the hallway towards the living room and Max and Alicia. When he stepped into their line of sight, both of them opened their mouths to speak, but when they caught sight of Sam wielding the Angel blade, they closed their mouths.

He allowed himself to be steered to the kitchen area and then the angel blade was removed from his neck. He turned and took in Sam’s bloody, exhausted, and disheveled state.

“Sam what happened to you? Are you alright? Who is asleep back there, is it Dean?”

“You talk so fucking much. Shut up. Is there still coffee or was it ruined?” This was directed not at Cass but at Alicia, who was standing in the kitchen when they’d come into the room.

***********************************************

Alicia took a long look at the fingerprint smudges around Sam’s exposed wrist and the mouth shaped bruise on his neck and turned to catch Max’s eye. Judging from Max’s wide-eyed smirk, he’d seen and already realized himself. 

“Yeah, no, I think I found some coffee when we were cleaning up a little. Go sit down, Max fixed the couch, and I’ll get the coffee on,” Alicia offered, keeping her voice low and stepping close enough to Sam that she could feel his body heat without actually touching him. She didn't doubt that he could kill her with the angel blade, or his bare hands if it came to that, but she didn’t want to piss him off anymore than he already was. She tried to send out soothing, calming energy but it didn’t seem to make a dent in the red/black cloud of his aura.

Sam nudged the angel out of his way as he stomped over towards the couch and slumped down, head hanging down and hair covering his face, exposing more of his long neck and it’s multicolored bruises.

The angel, Alicia realized before she’d even started the coffee maker, might be the dumbest being on the planet as he kept asking the same questions when Sam had already snapped at him once. Alicia let her hands move with muscle memory to make coffee as she listened in to the half of a conversation happening in the living room.

“Why here, Sam? And What happened to you? Do you need healing? I don’t have much grace but I have enough to heal you. Why did you stop communicating with me? Did you find Dean?” The angel hovered close to the couch and Sam but never sat down, and never came within touching distance again, showing that he did have some kind of brain cells in his head.

“I swear to Chuck that if you say one more fucking word, I will smite you,” Sam growed before he stood from the couch and stomped back into the kitchen to scowl at the coffee machine. 

After a moment of Sam standing silently next to her watching what had to be the worlds slowest drip-coffee maker, Sam seemed to come to some kind of realization that someone was standing there with her and he turned intelligent blue and gold eyes on her.

“How’s everything going for you two?” Alicia felt Max come up behind her and place his fingertips on the small of her back, helping to ground her.

“We’re good, man. Sorry to barge into your love nest but feathers over there was worried.” Sam silently waved off Max’s apology and that was when Cass stepped into the kitchen area.

“Love nest? What love nest?” 

Sam looked from Alicia to Max and took a deep breath, his chest inflating and back straightening and in that moment, he looked like the biggest person that Alicia had ever seen. She subtly leaned back into Max’s personal space, his hand flattening out across her lower back and moving to her hip to pull her back into his body. She could feel his aura surrounding her and protecting her and Alicia managed to take a full breath for the first time since Sam came into the kitchen.

“Glad to hear you guys are doing well. You’ve got our emails and cells in case you need something? We’re always happy to come help.” Alicia felt Max smile and nod behind her when they all heard a soft sound from the hallway. 

Three sets of eyes swivelled to watch the hallway to the bedroom, Sam turned back towards the coffee maker which had finally produced a half a pot. Alicia was mostly sure who she was going to see come out of the hallway from the minute that she’d stepped into the trashed apartment, but being pretty sure and seeing it to confirm were two different things.

If any of them had thought that Sam was looking rough after a night of debauchery, it was nothing compared to how Dean looked. Dean was wearing pants that were falling off his hips because the fly was visibly ripped. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, clearly showing off the bruises from Sam’s hands and mouth and who knew what else from his neck to his waist. He had a black eye and even still had a blood stain across his cheek. He stopped stock still when he noticed everyone in the room.

“Morning.” Dean’s voice was deeper and rougher than Alicia remembered it but Max leaned forward and whispered, “Someone’s a screamer” into her hair and the difference clicked. She swallowed to keep from laughing nervously.

********************************

Sam very carefully didn’t turn to look at his brother. He didn’t think he would be able to control himself, even knowing they had an audience.

“Dean! Thank god, we were worried. When did Sam find you? Why did you hide yourselves from me? Why didn’t you contact me to let me know?” 

Sam ground his teeth together and poured two cups of coffee as calmly as he could. Alicia seemed fully capable of pouring her own coffee if she wanted it.

“Whoa, Cass. Calm down. I found Sammy, actually. I only got here last night. It’s all good, we’re all good.” 

Sam walked over and stood as close as he could, shoulder to shoulder, and handed Dean his coffee without looking at him. He kept his eyes down or across the room at Max and Alicia, not wanting to look at Cass lest he get angry again for being interrupted this morning.

Sam shifted on his feet, feeling the ache in his hips and ass from the night before. He cracked his neck back and forth and fought the urge to press on the bruises on his collarbone to relive the moment that he got them. Eventually, he was able to take the focus off his body and pull his attention back to the room, where Dean had convinced everyone that they were fine and it was time for everyone to leave.

“Cass, look, man. You got a lot of healing to do. You rest up. Sammy and I will be on our way in a couple days, max.” Sam watched from his peripherals as Dean managed to shuffle Cass to the door without actually touching the angel. Sam turned to Max and Alicia and inched closer to them, so that he could speak quietly.

“Do we need to talk about this?” Sam didn’t elaborate on what he meant, he knew that both the twins knew what he was talking about. They went very still and quiet for a moment, meeting each other’s eyes and then Alicia gave the tiniest nod to her brother. Max’s hand slipped around Alicia’s hip and curled there in an unmistakably intimate way.

“We do not need to talk about it.” Max replied quietly and Sam allowed himself a little smile. Louder, Max said, “Glad to see that you’re okay. Next time you’re in the Pacific Northwest for anything, give us a ring. We’ll meet up, hunt or no hunt.” Alicia stuck her hand out and Sam shook it, smiling even larger and more genuine. 

He liked the twins, he was glad that this morning had gone the way that it did without any further bloodshed. He stepped back and gestured to the open door, where Dean stood waiting, smile pasted on his face and one hand held out to shake.

“Good to see you, we’re all good here. We will absolutely look you up the next time we’re out your way. Grab a beer or something. Thanks, okay bye.” Dean shut the door, threw the deadbolt, locked the doorknob and pulled the chain across. He moved to the kitchen and fixed the ‘HIDE ME’ sigil on the cabinet door before he looked at Sam.

“Heaven’s most pathetic angel is gone and we’re all alone again, little brother. Whatever should we do?”

***********************************

24 hours earlier:

Sam tucked the angel blade under his thigh and his Colt openly lay on the table next to the couch. The television had been on and droning for over an hour but he couldn’t tell you what was showing. The sigils were all complete. His phone locator was turned off and he was ignoring Cass’ messages and calls.

He knew that Dean had spotted him about two days ago and they’d been playing cat and mouse ever since. He wanted Dean to come to him. He wanted to get the demon out of him again. He had blood in the fridge and clean syringes in the bathroom near the demon-proof shackles. It wasn’t as ideal as the dungeon in the bunker, but it would do.

Sam’s eyes popped open and he cursed himself for not sleeping or eating before trying to enact his plan. The window to the side of the television was broken and Dean was sitting on the floor in front of him, black eyes clear as day and a smile on his lips.

“Gotta take better care of yourself, Sammy. Or, could you not take care of yourself cause you need big brother to do that?” Sam tried to move his arm and grab at the angel blade but his hands were locked in iron shackles, different to the ones he’d brought. These ones had spellwork etched into them, not devils traps. He felt himself go cold.

“Sammy. Big brother is talking to you. Do you need me to take care of you?” Sam ground his teeth and didn’t reply, his eyes skittering around the room trying to find some way out of the situation.

“Sammy, it’s over. I caught you. It’s okay, little brother. I’m gonna take care of you. You and I are gonna be able to do all the things that we’ve always wanted to do. I just need you to do one little thing for me.” At the abrupt change in Dean’s tone, it had become almost shy, Sam’s eyes darted to Dean’s face.

It was the exact same face he’d known all his life. Freckles across the bridge of his nose, full pink lips, sticky-out ears and strong chin. Black eyes replaced the green that he loved so much and it made his whole body want to scream in agony.

“What? What do you need me to do? You need me to cure you again? I can do that. I’m all set to do that, Dean. Just let me go,” he pleaded even though he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

“Oh, no, Sammy. Nothing that complicated. I just need you to take a drink.”

Sam scowled at Dean, who was pretending to look innocent, but Sam knew he was anything but. “A drink? Wanna share a beer with your little brother? Please.” Sam tossed his head dismissively, feeling a little foolish pulling a move like that but he couldn’t move other than his head.

“Oh no little brother. Not a beer.” Sam looked back over at Dean, who had a sharp little knife against the skin of his forearm. Sam swallowed hard.

“Addicts are always addicts, Sammy. The craving never goes away. It never left you. You just learned to handle it.” Dean pressed the blade to his flesh and the smell of blood and demon and Dean filled the air between them. Dean stepped closer to where Sam was shackled on the couch, till Sam’s vision was nothing but the demon wearing his brother.

“You’re wrong. I’m not some demon inside a big-brother meatsuit. Still Dean. Just Dean as a demon. Wanna see my party trick? Look at me Sammy.” Despite himself Sam looked up from where he was trying to stare a hole through Dean’s stomach. Black eyes vanished, leaving Dean’s beloved green eyes smiling down at him. His eyes flickered again, like a blink and the smell of fresh blood was gone. Sam looked over at Dean’s arm and saw that the cut had healed, leaving no sign it was ever there except the streak of dried blood where one perfect drop had welled up and rolled down the skin.

“No, you don’t want to drink from there. That’s where you always drank from her, isn’t it?” They agreed a long time ago, when both were still human, to not mention Ruby by name. They had enough ill-will and mistrust between them without bringing her into the mix. Sam sucked in a breath and pushed himself back into the couch cushions as Dean straddled his knees.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked through a tight throat. Sam watched, unable to move, as Dean unbuttoned his flannel and tossed it onto the floor behind him. Dean crossed his arms and reached down to grip at the hem of his thin teeshirt, tossing it to join his flannel.

“It was always going to end up here, Sammy. You and me. We want each other too much. We were never normal. It was part of the reason that you ran away from me all those years ago, wasn’t it?”

Part of Sam wanted to deny it. Part of Sam wanted to ask ‘which time’ because he’d left his brother more times than he could think about without anguish. While Sam angsted, Dean raised the tiny knife and made a cut on his collarbone, just above his tattoo. Blood welled up and dripped down across the inked skin and whie Sam was mesmerized by the image as a symbol of their lives, Dean slipped a hand behind Sam’s head and pulled him forward.

“I won’t force it Sammy. But I told you before, I like the disease. I can see that this is how it’s supposed to go.” 

Sam felt his mouth water. He could smell Dean’s sweat, his blood. He could feel the weight of him pressing Sam down into the couch.

It felt like everything he wanted was literally sitting in his lap.

“You called me a blood sucking freak.” The words left his lips without his permission. He felt the hurt and the pain from all those years ago well right back up to the forefront as if he were listening to that horrible voicemail for the first time. Hearing his brother, his beloved brother, his everything, say those things to him through the tinny microphone of a shitty flip phone had crushed him.

“When did I ever say that, Sammy?” Dean’s eyes were green again and the emotion on his face looked too honest to be manufactured.

“The voicemail. With.. her. And the demon blood. Before… Detroit.” Sam choked out, refusing to cry again. He tensed and released the big muscles in his thighs; it was going to be harder to push up off the couch now that Dean was sitting on him.

“Sammy I never. When Zach took me to heaven to try and convince me, I did call you. I left you a message saying that I was sorry. That we were and always would be brothers.” 

Sam stopped moving, stopped breathing.

Dean’s eyes were green. His face was open and no one could read it like Sam. Dean was telling the truth. All those years of pain and heartbreak. All those missed opportunities. Sam felt a long-dormant anger come to the forefront. He leaned forward and dragged the tip of his nose along the flesh of Dean’s pec, just to the side of the blood still slowly dripping. Sam took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of his brother and blood, deep into his lungs. 

He felt his cock stir and his head swam with just how fast his mood had flipped. He looked up at Dean and smiled before sticking his tongue out and licking across the blood-stained tattoo. Dean’s eyes flashed black and he smiled.

Just that tiny taste of demon blood made Sam feel wild. He bucked his hips up, knocking Dean off his lap and onto the floor. Before Dean could be upset or offended, Sam followed, throwing himself off the floor and on top of his brother, fastening his open mouth to the slowly trickling wound on Dean’s chest.

“Oh fuck, little brother. That feels good. You want another?” Dean asked as he twined Sam’s hair around his fingers and smashed Sam’s face into his chest hard enough that Sam felt his lips bruise.

“Get me outta these chains, Dee. C’mon.” Sam whined a little, rocking his hips so that the bump of their cocks in their jeans rolled together. Dean slammed his head back onto the floor with a cracking noise then tightened his fist in Sam’s hair and yanked his head back.

Sam could feel blood all over his mouth and chin, but he delicately licked his lips and smiled down at Dean, rolling his hips again.

“Lemme outta these chains big brother. No holding back,” Sam asked again, his cock already leaking a wet spot for Dean to see on the front of his jeans. Still, Dean looked but didn’t move.

“No tricks. I swear it. What can I do to prove to you?” 

Dean tilted his head and looked up at Sam consideringly. Sam tried to stop the roll of his hips but couldn’t when it felt so good.

“Can you come in your pants for me? Mess yourself up like a horny teenager?” Dean asked and Sam whined, his hips moving faster. He licked his lips over and over, till every trace of blood was gone from them. He didn’t know how to ask for more but Dean was paying attention, and Dean knew him better than anyone else living or dead.

“Not enough? C’mere little brother.” Dean shoved Sam back until Sam was straddling Dean’s thighs. Dean flicked his knife over the skin at his hip, blood welling up immediately. Sam fell on him, suddenly ravenous.

“Does this get you off, baby? Blood and bruises and pain and not having to hold back? You like that, don’t you?” 

In reply, Sam pulled his mouth off the cut on Dean’s hip and lay a trail of bites across Dean’s belly. He looked up and winked at his brother before he rubbed his face on the crotch of Dean’s jeans, smearing blood and saliva all over them as he felt along the outline of Dean’s hard cock.

“You never have to hold back with me, little brother. You can use all of your strength and all of your size with me.” Dean tightened his fist around Sam’s hair again, shoving Sam’s face into his crotch before dragging his head back up to hover over the still-bleeding cut on his hip.

“Drink deep little brother. Cream your jeans for me. Then I’ll free your hands and you can show me just how strong you are.’ Sam parted his thighs for Dean to slot his leg between them and felt no shame as he lapped at Dean’s blood and humped his leg. Dean pulled his hair one more time and that was it, Sam was tensing up, going hot and cold and coming in his underwear and jeans.

At first, it felt good, his sensitive dick surrounded by his warm jizz. By the time it was too much, Dean had opened the shackles and lifted Sam up off the floor, carrying him into the kitchen. Sam felt himself placed on the counter and held up with one of Dean’s hands as Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and held it to his lips. Sam let Dean feed him the water with little sips. He opened his legs wide and curled his heels behind Dean’s ass, tugging his brother in close.

“You haven’t kissed me yet.”

Sam went hot and cold as Dean’s eyes flashed black-green before they closed and Dean leaned forward to lick into Sam’s mouth. Sam wrapped himself around his brother, locking his heels together and wrapping his arms around Dean’s back. Sam had had many kisses in his life but Dean kissed like he wanted to devour Sam.

“Oh fuck.” Sam felt his dick twitch and in a flash he shoved himself off the counter and forward, till Dean slammed up against the cabinets on the opposite side of the kitchen. Sam pressed forward till Dean was held up against the wall of cabinets by Sam’s arms alone and then opened wide and sucked on Dean's tongue, his hands moving ceaselessly along Dean's neck and back and around to his chest before curling around Dean’s ass cheeks and squeezing hard.

“Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like this.” Dean pulled back long enough to flirt, a throwback to their younger, more innocent selves.

Sam growled and leaned down, sucking the flesh of Dean’s neck between his teeth and biting just hard enough to draw a drop of blood.

“Oh that’s how we’re gonna play?” Dean asked, teasing but breathless and suddenly Sam was thrown away from Dean. He felt himself pushed into the living room where he fell into the couch and knocked it over. When he got back to his feet he was harder than he’d been before he came the first time and he had an idea. He calmed himself a little, and changed his stance to a non-aggressive one. He blinked his eyes at Dean slowly and pulled his shirt up over his head, tossing it towards the hallway that led to the bedroom. 

“Gotta get outta these pants, Dee.” Sam sighed, popping the fly and drawing down the zipper. He winced at the state of his underwear but it felt so good to release himself from the confines of his jeans that he put it out of his mind.

“You gonna fuck me big brother? Gonna hold me down and plow me into the mattress?” Sam turned, showing his back to Dean as he pulled down his underwear and let Dean see the bare flesh of his ass. He peeked over his shoulder and saw that Dean’s eyes were black, not because of the demon, but they were so dilated with lust that no green was showing. Sam felt powerful, from the way that Dean was looking at him and from the blood coursing through him.

“I think that you’ll have to catch me.” Sam teased, pulling his sticky boxers back up over his ass and legging it around the couch to face his brother once again.

Dean growled and tore after him and Sam laughed as he ran around the small apartment, flipping over every piece of furniture, banging into walls, and smudging his once-pristine sigils. Eventually, he turned down the hallway to the bedroom and let Dean catch him.

“Oh no, big scary demon. Whatever are you going to do with me?” Sam asked, breathless, as Dean shoved him onto the bed belly first and then covered him with his own body. Both of them were breathing hard from their brief but fierce chase.

“Sammy. Not nice to tease.” Dean nibbled the back of Sam’s earlobe as he rocked his hips into Sam’s ass.

“What are you gonna go about it?” Sam beathed back, trying to turn his head to see Dean but his head was shoved into the pillow.

“MMmm, whatever I want. And I wanna hear you beg me, little brother. I wanna hear you whine for it.” Sam felt Dean sliding down his body, tugging at Sam’s boxers as he got down to the end of the bed. Sam pushed his knees down into the bed, tilting his ass up into the air and practically displaying himself for Dean.

All the power he’d felt so recently was gone but he liked this too. He liked feeling powerless at Deans hands. He moved his hands so that he could push himself to hands and knees but before he could process the movement, Dean was covering his body again, his hands clamped tight around Sam’s wrists. Sam could feel the bones in his wrists grind together under the force from Deans hands. He could feel the bruises form.

“Don’t. Move. I won’t warn you again.”

Sam felt his blood sing in response to the power and control in Deans voice.

“I can’t be sweet this time little brother. I want to mark you up. Bruise you and hurt you and make sure that you know you’re mine. Next time I’ll eat out this sweet little hole till you come. Next time I’ll kiss you and lick you and the only mark I leave on you will be my come.”

Sam groaned and arched his back, the only movement he could make with dean holding him down the way he was.

“Do it.” The words were mumbled into his pillow but Dean clearly heard him by the way his fingers squeezed even tighter around Sam’s wrists. 

Dean moved away again and Sam listened to his movements; the shuff of a shirt coming off. The clunk of jeans and belt hitting the floor. Footsteps moving away then back again. Something cold squirted into the dip of his lower back then fingers trailing through it, leaving cold, wet trails across his skin. 

“Open up for big brother, Sammy.” And his ass was pushed open, a slick finger slotted inside him. Sam lost track of time as Dean prepped him with smoothly moving fingers and a dirty mouth. At some point, Dean deemed Sam ready and shoved his hip, rolling Sam onto his back.

Sam’s vision was fuzzy as he tried to focus on Deans movements but he couldn’t. He’d never been harder or more turned on in his life. His legs felt like jelly as Dean pulled them up and curled them around his hips. Dean wrapped strong arms around his back and pulled him up off the bed, till his head was pressed against Dean’s chest.

“Drink, Sammy.” Dazedly, Sam lapped up the salty warm blood trickling from a cut on Dean’s chest as Dean fucked him from below.

With each mouthful and each thrust, Sam felt more centered, stronger. He could feel his hips bruise under Deans fingers on his hips. He felt his mouth bruise as it bounced on Dean’s chest. His cock bobbed between the two of them, smearing precome over both their bellies.

“Damn Sammy. Took my cock so sweet and tight. Better’n any girl ever could. But you get wet just like a girl dont’cha?” Sam pulled his mouth away and looked up at his brother who was grinning down at him.

“Lookit that pretty, long cock drippin everywhere. You gonna come little brother?” Dean punctuated with a few solid thrusts that drove his cockhead into Sam’s prostate.

Sam felt his body clench and seize. The teasing, the blood, the fucking, even with the earlier orgasm he was coming already. Sam threw his head back and shouted to the ceiling as dean continued to hammer him, fucking him right through his orgasm and into the other side.

“Gonna. Fill. You. Up. See you dripping with it.” Dean gritted out between his teeth, each word punctuated with a thrust. Finally Sam felt the slight throb of Dean’s cock and the sudden, hot wetness inside of him. Dean’s arms fell away from his back and they both fell to the bed, panting and spent.


End file.
